Generations
by 4luv4evr428
Summary: Ricky is a decidedly different husband and father than his own father had been. WARNING: May be a trigger for victims of domestic violence (not among the main characters). Rated T for mild violence.


_I._

 _Alberto stood on the front porch of his brother's small house, listening to the argument building inside. He smirked, smoking a cigar, the rings of smoke swirling around his head._

 _Alberto's brother, Ramon, emerged onto the porch with a similar smirk on his face. "Vamonos," he chuckled._

 _Ramon's wife, Carmen, followed him outside. She was carrying their infant son, their youngest child, in her arms. "Te di otro hijo hace una semana y que no pierdas un momento para ir a tu puta."_

 _Ramon turned back to face her. "Tome el nino dentro y callate o me callo la boca para ti."_

 _Carmen stood with the baby and didn't challenge her husband any further. His threats of violence were never empty ones; her previously black eye had only recently healed from when he'd struck her for not having his dinner ready one night. The fact that she'd been pregnant for nine months at the time had not slowed him down._

 _When he saw that she was backing down, Ramon turned and walked away from the house, with Alberto following him close behind._

 _Carmen watched them leave as she heard her other children playing in the yard behind the house. She looked down as her baby fussed in her arms, and she turned to carry him back into the house. She sat in a chair near the stove and slowly opened one side of her blouse, allowing the tiny boy to latch onto her breast and nurse._

 _As she watched him, his balled up fist resting on her breast as he suckled, she fought back tears. She didn't know why she was surprised by her husband's actions. He'd been carrying on with other women throughout their marriage, often learning of his children's births while in another's bed. And the first time he'd hit her was the night after they married._

 _Carmen began to sing to her son quietly. She remembered when she used to sing for others, with dreams of using her talent to escape the island. But when she fell in love with Ramon and agreed to marry him, she gave in to his demands that she forget any ideas of a career. Ten years and five children later, she had long ago stopped loving him, but her options had vanished._

 _She whispered as the baby innocently continued to nurse. "Si me mata, seras un hombre major que tu padre. Ya ha influenciado sus hermanos. Pero no voy a permitir que el te envenene tambien, Enrique."_

II.

Ricky sat at the desk in the living room and sorted through the mail, pausing at a bill from Macy's for some purchase of Lucy's. "Aye, esta mujer cree que estoy hecho de dinero. Un dia, me ahogo ella…"

He stood up with the bill in his hand and walked briskly to the bedroom. He got to the doorway and took a breath, ready to scold her for spending more money, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw his wife lounging on their bed, their new son nursing at her breast peacefully.

Lucy looked up as Ricky entered, noticing the tension in his face. "What's wrong?"

Ricky walked slowly into the room and sank down onto the foot of the bed, immediately feeling badly about his mutterings a few moments earlier. His temper was nothing new and neither were the empty threats he often made to her in Spanish; she likely got the gist of what he was saying, but never really knew. He certainly had never raised a hand to hurt her, but he always felt sorry for allowing his anger to get the best of him. Even though Lucy hadn't even heard his latest tirade moments earlier, he felt worse than usual for having said it, confronted with the sight of her with his son.

"Ricky?" Lucy interrupted his thoughts. "What's wrong?"

He shook free of his troubled thoughts, holding up the bill in his hand half-heartedly. "Uh…a bill from Macy's."

She raised an eyebrow and simultaneously flinched at the sharp pinch she felt in her nipple at that moment. She rubbed the baby's cheek to soften his mouth's grip on her breast before turning her attention back to Ricky. "Yeah, well…there was a beautiful dress on sale. I can't exactly fit into it yet, but I'm working hard to get my figure back!" She looked at him with round, expressive eyes, hoping to charm him into letting her keep it. "Are you mad?"

Ricky's lips broke into a small smile. "No, honey, I'm not mad," he sighed, folding the bill and shoving it into his pocket. He began to crawl on the bed to sit alongside her. "But we have to be careful, Lucy, we spent a fortune on thin's for the baby…" His voice trailed off as he settled next to her and looked at the baby. It was true, they had spent a large amount of money on clothes, toys and furniture in preparation for the little boy's arrival. Greater than that was the hospital bill for his delivery, multiplied by the additional costs associated with making sure his wife had a private, comfortable room. It had been worth it to be able to see her and get to know his son in a quiet environment, rather than the large room of lined up beds occupied by dozens of new mothers and their crying infants, which is where most women were placed at a much lower cost. All the lavish preparation and the price of comfort had taken a toll on Ricky's normally thrifty ways. But at least for now, he didn't have the heart to deny his wife of anything.

Lucy pulled her blouse over her breast as the baby turned away from her, satisfied as he fell asleep in her arms. She rested her head on Ricky's shoulder and sighed. "I know, honey." As she settled comfortably beside him, his arm around her, she smiled. "I wish you didn't have to leave tonight."

Ricky chuckled, leaving a gentle kiss on top of her red curls. "I gotta work, sweetheart. 'Specially now."

They lay in silence for some time as the baby slept in his mother's embrace. But as dusk fell, Ricky reluctantly pulled himself away and donned his tuxedo before heading to work.

 _III._

 _It was nearly two o'clock in the morning when Carmen heard Ramon stumbling into the house, clearly drunk and bereft of money, having spent almost his entire salary on booze and whores. From where she lay in bed, she looked over at the open drawer of the chest in the corner, in which baby Enrique slept, wrapped in a thin blanket. His father's boisterous entrance hadn't awakened him yet._

 _Carmen slipped out of bed and into the kitchen, where Ramon sat haphazardly in a chair and attempted to light his cigar with poor, intoxicated coordination. He looked up when he heard her walk in quietly, illuminated by the light of the match in his hand. He watched his wife hold his hand steady, allowing the small flame to light the cigar in his mouth. Once lit, he dropped the match to the concrete floor and snuffed it out under his shoe._

 _She stood before him as he silently smoked, acknowledging her presence only by asking for food._

 _Carmen pulled a tin plate of chicken and rice from the stove and placed it in front of him. As he gnawed hungrily at the chicken leg, she sat across from him. "Necesito dinero para una cuna para Enrique. El vecino de la colina es la venta de una."_

 _Ramon snorted. "Crees que estoy hecho de dinero?"_

 _Carmen's eyes widened. "No le pagan hoy?"_

 _He laughed drunkenly, dropping the bare chicken bone into the plate. "Tuve que pagar por el sexo. Nada bueno sale de tu cama en estos dias."_

 _Her eyes immediately filled with tears. "Bastardo! Como vamos a comer? Tu bebe va a dormir en un cajon para siempre?"_

 _Ramon stood up angrily and seemed to leap to her side of the table. "Perra!" He swung his closed fist through the air and struck her, knocking her to the hard floor, which felt like a second strike against her body._

 _Pained, Carmen looked up to see him stumble to their bedroom. He was likely to collapse onto their bed, but she crawled after him to ensure that he didn't go near their sleeping newborn. Tears fell from her eyes and drops of blood fell from her nose as she passed the room where their other children slept, oblivious to the violence that occurred mere feet from where they lay._

 _When she reached the bedroom, she watched Ramon lay clumsily onto the bed, his arms and legs spread across the mattress, leaving no room for her, not that she'd cared much to be next to him. As he began to snore loudly, she pulled a light blanket from the bed and spread it on the floor beside the drawer where little Enrique continued to sleep. It provided almost no cushion against the concrete below her, but she lay down anyway and wiped the blood from her face as she guarded her little son with only her body between him and his father._

IV.

It was nearly two o'clock in the morning when Ricky walked quietly into the apartment, locking the door behind him and making his way gingerly into the bedroom.

When he entered, he found it dark and tiptoed to his son's crib, which was illuminated by the soft light from the nearby window. He looked in and saw little Ricky nestled among the blankets and cushions that lined the inside of the crib. Ricky smiled as the baby sighed softly in his sleep. He tucked the blanket around the little boy and turned to look at his wife.

Lucy lay sleeping in their bed, likely exhausted from getting the baby to sleep, Ricky surmised. He crept into the closet to change out of his tuxedo and into some pajamas.

As he pulled the drawstring pants around his waist, he turned to see Lucy standing in the doorway. "Aw, honey, did I wake you?"

She shook her head sleepily. "No, I was trying to wait up for you."

Ricky took her hand and led her back to bed. "C'mon, you gotta get your rest."

Lucy followed him, groggy and not nearly as awake as she liked to think. "But I wanted to see you…"

He grinned as she climbed into bed without much of a fight. He pulled the blanket back around her. "You'll see me in the mornin', darlin'. Go back to sleep." She seemed to drift back to sleep rather quickly as Ricky leaned over and kissed her, his lips lingering against her cheek for several seconds.

Ricky went around to his side of the bed and slipped under the blankets beside his wife. He lay there for several moments, looking up at the ceiling, until Lucy turned to face him.

"Ricky?" Her voice was a soft whisper.

He turned to look at her. "You're stubborn! What is it?"

"Do you love me?" Her eyes were still closed and Ricky felt that she was speaking unconsciously.

"You know I do," he replied gently.

Lucy opened her eyes slowly. "Are you angry at me for buying that dress?"

Ricky blinked. He hadn't given it a second thought all night. "No, I told you I'm not."

She closed her eyes again, her voice low. "We'll be able to take care of the baby, won't we, Ricky?"

He smiled, realizing that she was halfway immersed in a troubled sleep of normal worries that preoccupied most new parents. He'd had them himself. But he touched her cheek and kissed her forehead. "I'll take care of you and the baby just fine. Dun't worry anymore and go to sleep."

Finally, Lucy fell completely into slumber, her red curls falling sweetly on the pillow beneath her head.

Ricky watched her sleep. Despite her zeal to reclaim her pre-pregnancy figure, he thought her as beautiful as ever. As his eyes roamed over the curve of her hips and the fullness of her breasts, he longed to be able to make love to her. But it was too soon and her body needed more time to heal. He could wait; barely, he thought with a silent laugh, but he could.

He lay against his pillow and sighed. "I love you," he whispered, closing his eyes and joining her in sleep.


End file.
